The warmth of the sun-drenched reef gradually faded behind them as they dove back into the deep currents, leaving the tropical waters far behind. As they traveled for days, the temperature began to drop drastically, turning the bright turquoise sea into a dark, solid blue.
Surprisingly, Lansi didn't feel the chill at all. The beige ointment Winsor had put on him was working perfectly, keeping him completely warm.
"Wow, this stuff actually works," Lansi said, flexing his fingers and watching the water rush past his webbed hands. "I don't feel cold at all. Are you sure you won't tell me what's in that conch shell?"
Winsor swam just a bit ahead, his blue tail moving steadily. He glanced back with a grin. "It's a secret. If I tell you now, you won't appreciate it as much when we're surrounded by actual ice."
Lansi blew a stream of bubbles, annoyed but amused. He sped up and intentionally bumped his shoulder against Winsor's as he passed him. "You just love keeping secrets. It's a terrible habit."
"It keeps things interesting," Winsor replied easily. He reached out, catching Lansi by the arm for a second to help him match his pace. "Look up ahead. The current is changing."
The ocean wasn't quiet anymore. As they moved further south, they started hearing the distant, deep groans of shifting icebergs and the sharp cracking of ice sheets drifting somewhere above them.
Whenever they surfaced to catch the upper currents, the view changed completely. The bright blue sky was gone, replaced by a massive, pale grey expanse that looked ready to drop snow at any minute.
Then, during one of their breaks at the surface, Lansi saw something move.
At first, he thought they were just weird, dark fish jumping out of the water. But as they broke the surface, he realized they weren't fish at all. They literally flew through the air, their sleek, black-and-white bodies glistening before plunging back into the cold water with incredible speed.
"Winsor! Look over there!" Lansi pointed toward a small group of them navigating the waves.
"Those are penguins," Winsor said, swimming a bit closer to watch them. "Gentoos, based on the markings. Looks like they're hunting."
Lansi watched them, completely fascinated. In his past life as a human, penguins were always those clumsy, waddling birds you saw in nature documentaries or behind glass at a zoo. But seeing them here, in the open ocean, was a completely different story. They were incredibly fast, moving like little feathered torpedoes. They could turn on a dime, using their wings like oars to chase down schools of krill.
One of the penguins noticed the two large shapes in the water and veered away from its flock. It swam a tight circle around Lansi, tilting its head to get a good look with pure curiosity. It let out a sharp, funny *honk* right in his face before darting away in a blur.
Lansi burst out laughing. "They're so fast! I honestly thought they'd be way slower underwater."
"In the ocean, you have to be fast if you want to eat," Winsor said, watching the flock disappear into the darker water. "But they really are clumsy on land. Just wait until you see them try to walk. They'll trip over literally nothing."
Lansi flipped onto his back, floating lazily on the surface. The freezing wind and spray hit his chest, but the layer of oil kept his skin perfectly comfortable. He looked at the massive white wall of an ice shelf looming on the horizon.
It was an incredible feeling. After spending so much time stuck in the dark, cramped deep sea, being out here in the wide-open ocean with the cold wind and these strange birds made the world feel massive.
"Are we almost there?" Lansi asked, swimming back upright.
Winsor nodded, looking toward the horizon. "Very close. The main ice sheet is right ahead."
The white shadow on the horizon grew taller as they swam, turning into a massive wall of ancient ice cliffs that dropped straight into the dark sea.
As they got closer, the water became packed with penguins. Hundreds of them were returning from hunting, creating a chaotic, rushing highway in the current. They didn't care about the two mermen at all, simply swerving around Lansi and Winsor like they were just a couple of large rocks.
Lansi swam right into the middle of the crowd, laughing as he tried to mimic their tight, rolling turns. A few younger penguins actually stuck around, swimming circles around his head and blowing tiny bubbles before shooting up toward the surface.
"Winsor, watch them land!" Lansi called out, breaking the surface just a few yards from the ice.
He shook the water out of his hair and looked at a low, sloping snow ramp. The penguins weren't exactly sticking the landing. To get onto the ice, they would put on a massive burst of speed, launch themselves out of the water like a projectile, and land flat on their bellies on the slick ice. Then they would slide forward, legs kicking, before scrambling up onto their feet with a quick shake of their tails.
"See?" Winsor surfaced next to him, his hair damp but his expression totally calm. He watched a particularly round penguin misjudge its jump, slam chest-first into a snowbank, and roll right back into the water. "Told you."
"Hey, they're doing their best," Lansi joked, though he couldn't stop smiling.
He swam right up to the edge, resting his arms on a flat ledge of ice. Up close, the ice shelf had these beautiful, deep blue cracks where the light hit it—the exact kind of glassy color Lansi loved. The air tasted incredibly crisp and clean, completely free of the usual salty, tropical smells.
Winsor hovered right behind him, looking up at the thousands of penguins gathered on the plateau. The noise was crazy—a loud, non-stop chorus of honking and cawing as the birds called out to each other.
"Are you planning on going up there?" Winsor asked, amused. "You don't have legs, Lansi. If you try to climb that, you're just going to slide right back down."
Lansi smirked. "Who says I need to walk? I can slide just as well as they can."
Before Winsor could say anything, Lansi hauled himself up onto the snow ramp using his arms. The ointment protected him perfectly, blocking out the freezing snow. He gave a strong push and dragged his tail up, sliding forward just like the penguins next to him.
A nearby penguin stopped waddling, turned its head sideways, and stared at Lansi like he was completely crazy. It let out a sharp *quack* of disapproval.
Winsor let out a sigh from the water but shook his head with a smile. He didn't climb up—he preferred the open water—but he swam along the edge to keep an eye on him. "Don't go too far. If you get stuck up there, I'm not coming to get you."
Lansi barely heard him. He had made it to a small, flat ridge a bit above the water line, surrounded by a dozen penguins that were currently staring at him in total confusion. He lay on his stomach in the snow, propping his chin up with his hands, feeling completely happy.
The sun broke through the heavy grey clouds for a second, lighting up the endless white landscape. Lansi took a deep breath, enjoying the view. He was finally far away from the noisy drums of Sunset Bay and the dark trenches of the deep sea. Out here on the edge of the world, he felt completely free.
The peace didn't last long, though. A brave penguin waddled closer, its webbed feet making a *thud-thud* sound against the hard snow. It walked right up to Lansi's tail, checked out the silver scales, and gave it a sharp, testing peck.
"Ow! Hey! Pack it in!" Lansi yelped, twisting around to wave the bird away.
The penguin didn't even care. It just hopped back, gave a loud hiss, and waddled away like Lansi was a boring piece of wood.
From the water below, Winsor burst out laughing. He was resting his chin on his arms at the edge of the ice, thoroughly enjoying the show. "I thought you said they were perfect."
"They're rude," Lansi grumbled, though he was laughing too. He brushed some snow off his arm, realizing his skin was still completely warm thanks to the ointment.
With a quick twist, Lansi pushed off the ridge. Without clothes creating friction, his scales glided perfectly over the ice. He slid down the ramp and hit the water with a clean splash, sending a few nearby penguins scattering.
The cold ocean water felt grounding as he sank beneath the surface. He popped his head back up next to Winsor, shaking his hair out.
"Had enough of the birds?" Winsor asked, swimming closer.
"Yeah, for now," Lansi said, letting his tail drift in the cold current. He looked at Winsor, his excitement returning. "Where to next? You promised the North Pole after this."
"The North Pole is a massive swim, Lansi," Winsor reminded him. "We have a lot of ocean to cross before we see any polar bears."
"Good," Lansi said, looking out at the open sea. "I'm in no rush to finish the trip anyway."
Winsor smiled and pointed toward the open blue stretching out into the horizon. "Then let's go."
With a powerful kick of their tails, they dove back into the quiet depths of the ocean, leaving the noisy penguin colony behind as they headed out into the open sea.
Lansi looked back one last time.
The glacier had become little more than a white blur in the distance.
Then he turned away.
The current carried them north, and the ocean opened before them.
There was still a long journey ahead.
Without another word, Lansi swam after Winsor.
The sea swallowed their silhouettes, and before long, they were gone with all time in the world together hand in hand.